


Keep you safe.

by KellyJunglette



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Escape, Eventual Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark, F/M, Forbidden Love, On the Run, Post-The Battle of the Blackwater, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, The Battle of the Blackwater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellyJunglette/pseuds/KellyJunglette
Summary: So I am riding this random flare of inspiration seeing as Im totally on this ship again after such a long time being off it. But, seeing as I wrote my first fandom about Sansa staying in Kings Landing with Sandor, it only felt right that I now experiment with Sansa leaving Kings Landing with Sandor. I know,(yawn) its been done a million times before, but I'm really hoping to freshen it up with a few twists. I'm just really enjoying writing again, so I hope you all enjoy just as much as I do!





	Keep you safe.

_Sansa_

Her head was tucked just under his chin. A heavy wool cloak pulled up over her head, almost down to her nose. When she dared to open her eyes from being so tightly shut, all she could see was the blur of the ground moving beneath them. It was making her so dizzy that she thought it best to keep them closed. It was terribly hard to keep balanced. The horse was moving at such a speed, sitting side saddle was proving more than difficult. Sansa had never been much good at riding. Her arms were wrapped around The Hounds torso, she could not stay upright otherwise. The fingers of her right hand found a grove in the back his armour, and clung to it as best she could. Her bare fingers going numb in the bitter cold of the night. Her left hand had changed several positions, though none seemed to be helping her much. She settled to clenching it around the pommel of strangers sadle, so hard she was sure her nails would have sunk into the leather.

Sansa found herself wishing she had ridden more as a girl. Years ago, for her eighth or ninth nameday, her father had bought her the most gorgeous silver haired pony. It had a bright white mane, as crisp as snow, that rippled as she ran. _Beauty_ she had called her. The memory filled her with warmth. Father would take her riding in the wolfswood sometimes. Her mother showed her how to care for her. Sansa's favourite part was brushing her coat, and untangling her long mane from all the knots. One morning her and Arya had been arguing, as often as they did, and her sister had run off crying. Little did she know that Arya had snuck up behind her pony and scared the mare, almost bucking Sansa off from the sadle. She had gotten caught in the stirups and hung upside down with her head in the mud. It had scared and embarrassed her so much that she never rode her again. _I wonder what happened to her._ She thought with a heavy heart, praying that she had gotten free before Theon sacked the castle.

They took a quick turn, jolting her head upwards so her hood fell down. It sent a prickle of fear right down her neck and into her chest. _I must not be seen!_  'Keep that pretty little face covered'. The Hound had said. 'or I'll bloody it'. Though she did not believe him. _Someone will bloody it though, if not him_. If anyone were to see her escaping, they would surely kill them both. _Would she say that The Hound had taken her? Or that she had left with him willingly?_ It had all happened so quickly, she had been so scared. Ser Lancel said that the battle was lost. There was blood seeping through the Lion on his surcoat. The men were fleeing. Killing their own officers.The ladies and children had started to panic. And Ser Illyn Payne never once broke his stare. She watched as he tapped his fingers along the blade of his sword. _I was going to die, right there in that tower._ She realised. Then, when Cersei fled, so did she. 

Sansa did not know The Hound would be there in her bed. She was still struggling to understand why he had gone there at all. But there was one thing she did know for certain - he was scared, terrified even. She could see it in his eyes. Sansa knew the real story behind his face, behind his scars. He feared the fire even more than she did. He wouldn't hurt her. He never had. _But_   _Stannis might_. The Hound wanted to save her, just like the knights in the stories. _He promised._  She reassured herself. _He promised to keep me safe._ Her eyes lifted, and for the briefest moment, she saw the red keep, there in the distance behind them. The sky was glowing and swirling behind it like some magical green cloud. Then she could see the fire. Green fire. It was no cloud, it was burning, like some living hell. Thick green flames licked up the sides of the walls, blackening the stone. Oddly, it made her smile. Quickly she pulled the fabric back over her head. There was no time to smile. No time to think, no time for regret. She could barely believe that they had even manage to leave the castle. Everything had happened so quickly, she was sure it was just some strange dream.  _Im free._ Is all she kept telling herself. Though not truly believing it - perhaps more to convince herself she had done the right thing. _I'm free from Joffery. Free from that golden prison._   _Free from the Lannisters._   _Free._  

The Hound swung his arm back, then forced his enormous greatsword down into what felt like a crowd before them, her whole body shook as she clung so tightly onto him, but it was no good. He swung his arm back again. The motion itself was enough to nearly throw her off. The great black war horse beneath her thrashed and twisted and reared. There were screams, cries, pleas for help. She felt the heat from fire. The Hound let out what she could only describe as a roar. Perhaps not like a lion. More like a dog when it snarls its teeth and growls. A deep menacing sound that shook her half to death. Then suddenly Stranger jumped high into the air with no warning, lifting Sansa up off the sadle and screaming in fear. She thought she was gone, going to be thrown onto the floor and trampled into a crippled broken mess. For the briefest second she saw her fathers face. Terror flooded her body like a hot tar, making her limbs feel heavy and useless. But as she slid down the side of the horse, The Hound dove down and caught her with the nook of his arm. With great force, he placed her firmly back between his legs. He pressed his knees harder into her then, as if to pin her into place.

Stranger jolted again, there were people in the way. He was trying to get through a crowd. The fire was making him whinny and snort in fear. She let go to lift back her hood and see what was happening, but she lost balance, and again she slipped down. 'Put your legs either side.' The Hound had rasped from above. His voice as harsh as steel on stone. The suggestion alone stiffened her up. It was unladylike to ride a horse in such a way. 'Your'll need to hold on girl.' He said, this time his tone more powerful. Reluctantly, she done as he commanded. Sansa began pulling her dress up to her knees, so she could put them either side. As she shuffled positions she almost fell again and let out a shriek of terror. She lent back into him and raised her knee past her face. One of her stockings fell down and revealed a naked calf. It was cold. And raining. Not a heavy rain, but the misty kind that seems to come in at all angles like a fog. She brushed away the hairs that had fallen and stuck to her face. 'Hold on.' The Hound said again. His voice commanding and unnerving. She felt Stranger turn away and they sent off galloping down what seemed to be endless winding rat run of alleyways and streets. Suddenly she realised he was leading them through fleebottom. He seemed to know every turn and bend, maneuvering them through with surprising ease. The resounding noise of the destriers hoofs pounding against the cobbles became strangely calming. However, it was painful riding this way, she could not understand how men done it for so long. Every corner they turned seemed to leave a bruise between her thighs. She was certain her legs would be black and blue by morning. _If we make it until morning that is._

It is strange, how taking away one sense can make the others so much more perceptive. Especially the loss of sight. In her minds eye, she could still see the ground rushing past her feet, the metal work of his breastplate. Sounds became so important. The clinking of armour she knew to be a line of soldiers running past to join the defence of the city. Glass smashing and men cheering, as people began to loose hope started looting and drinking. There was the distant crying of a mother and her children, knowing their father was surely going to die that night at the hand of Stannis Baratheon. The screams and sobs of a thousand people all about to give up hope. But Sansa wasn't. She was so close, so close to what she had been praying and praying for, for so very long. Its true, it isn't quite how she imagined it happening, but this was something she was beginning to understand about life. Nothing is ever the way it seems, and everything isn't as so black and white as she once believed. Some men can be good and bad, some awful things can be done with good reason, and most importantly some awful things can happen without any reason at all. If they truly managed to escape this night, she would be leaving the capital a woman nearly grown, not the stupid girl that once entered. The Hound scared her, but she never truly believed he would hurt her. _Jofferey would._ He had, over and over again. _He had me stripped in court and beaten in front of everyone._ She shuddered at the memory.

Sansa wasn't struggling to stay upright as she had before. As much as her thighs pinched against the leather it was much easier to stay still this way. She felt oddly safe on that saddle, but also ever so small and fragile. _Where are we?_ She asked herself blowing away hair that had gotten stuck to her lip. He was slowing Stranger down to a stop. His big black hooves clattered against the stone.  _Stranger._  She said the name over and over in her mind.  _Such an awful name for a horse._ Then it dawned on her that the Gods were truly mocking her, and she wasn't sure wether to laugh or cry. They had answered her prayers by sending _The Stranger_ to save her and carry her to safety. She forced out a small laugh.  _I suppose they done the same for my father._ She felt The Hound sheathe his great sword. 'Quiet girl.' She fought back the lump rising in her throat and done as she was bid. Trying to strain her ears to listen what was up ahead of them.

It was another crowd, it sounded bigger, angrier. People were shouting and begging to leave the city, she could hear the desperation in their voices. A baby was crying. She imagined people pushing and shoving one another. 'Let us out.' They screamed. The Hounds legs seemed to tighten against her own, something sharp was scratching her side, she tried to wriggle it free. _Whats happening?_   Did she dare lift her hood to see? Stranger was beginning to rear. 'Deserters the lot of you!' A man was shouting, but much further away. From the bottom of her hood she could see the rags and feet of the people around them. The air was acrid with smoke, it made her wrinkle up her nose.

'MOVE.' His voice bellowed from above, scaring her half to death. 

'MOVE OR I'LL CARVE YOU ALL LIKE FUCKING HAM.'

Sansa found the term he used odd. There was always such anger and ugliness in the way he spoke. Although, it did seem to be working. He edged the horse forward through the people at quite some speed.

'Halt' Someone said from afar.

'The Hound.' Another deep voice shouted. 'Let him through. LET HIM THROUGH!' 

The sound of his name made her heart drop right down into her stomach. _All is lost._

Stranger took them closer to the voice. She felt people brush past her legs. He pulled the reins to move them to the side. 

'What are you doing here? Aren't you leading the defence?' The way he spoke made her think this was a man The Hound was familiar with. He lowered his voice somewhat. 'Whats happening out there?'

There was a long pause before Sandor Clegane spoke.

'Theres no time, Bywater. I'm here on Kings Business.'

Then Sansa felt him lean down close to her ear and whisper. 

"Trust me."

He gave her no time to debate, a large gauntleted hand reached up and loosened her long auburn hair from her hood. As it dropped to her shoulders and she lifted up her bare face, she was met with the yellow eyes of a man who's name she could not recall, but most definitely recognised. He look worried, scared even. She had seen him before in the castle, wearing the gold chain mail of the city guard. Terror flooded her body.

"The King wants her safe." The Hound rasped.

The man studied her face for a moment, then looked back to the armed men behind him.  It gave her a chance to see where they were. They were stood before the Dragon Gate. Or the Old gate. It was so dark and smokey, it was difficult to be sure. It was one of the larger roads out of the city. Guards lined the towers either side, clutching spears and bows. Several men in half helms were staring at her with suspicious and narrowed eyes. They had barred the gates and put up barriers to keep anyone from leaving. Tiny droplets of water blurred her eyes. She turned to look into the crowd but she was pushed back by a heavy hand.

The man with the deep voice ushered them forward, away from staring faces. 

"I have orders to keep the gate shut, and not to let a _single_ miserable soul leave."

"And  _I_ have orders to take the future Queen of Westeros out of the city, to safety."

The Hound pulled her hood back up over her face. And with it she felt a small surge of security. 

It was black again, her eyes tightly shut. She began to pray silently, but decided The Gods had already decided her fate. It was useless.  _Surely The Hound could not kill them all?  I'll be dragged back to The Queen by my hair._ The image filled her with dread. _Perhaps the Queen is already dead? What would Stannis do if he got hold of me? Would he hurt me? What if The Hound says he caught me trying to leave? To save himself? What would Joffery do to me?_ Her thoughts consumed her. The two men were still discussing in low and serious tones. 

 _"_ These orders were given by the King himself, just moments ago. _"_  

"Then... we have a problem don't we, Clegane."

"Do we..?" He rapsed, reaching for his greatsword. Her stomach twisted in fear.

"Wait.." The mans voice was quiet. It was difficult to hear with all the commotion behind them. 

"We sent soldiers to the mud gate for news of the battle, but no one has returned...Is the city truly going to fall?"

The Hound leant forward, pushing his torso against her cheek.

"If it doesn't, do you want to find out what Joffery will do to you?" He spat out a laugh. "When I tell him you refused his little lady love passage to safety? I do hope no fucking harm comes to her. For your sake."

The man said nothing.

"Fancy joining all those rotting heads up there behind you huh? I'll take great pleasure in putting you up there myself. "

Sansa held her breath.

"OPEN THE GATES." 

The Hounds hand slowly left his greatsword. 

"But no one leaves the city!" An old gruff man snapped. Several people shouted in agreeance from the crowd.

A long silence followed.

"You heard me!"

The crowd and soldiers erupted into chaos.

"By order of the King." She heard someone shouting over and over again. People were moving around, there was rattling, metal striking metal, wood striking wood and heavy footsteps all filling her ears. The bell of the sept still rung loud and ominously in the distance. 

"Let them pass. OPEN THE GATES!"

There seemed to be a moment of hesitation, there was shouting and movement. But then, Sansa heard the gate being pulled open and several men swearing around them. There were clinks of metal and the distinct scraping sounds of the door being unbarred. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard, more so than any song or bard. 

"Hold them back! Hold them back!" And just like that they lurched into motion again. Her fingers still clung tightly around his huge body. Cold and numb. It seemed as soon as they passed the gates, the air was already cool and clean. A great weight lifted from her body. She let out a slow deep breath, only just realising that she had held it for quite some time.

"CLOSE THE GATES" She heard off into the distance, ever so quietly. Followed by the rhythmic pounding of hooves on the cobbles once again. The wind picked up and thrashed at her arms. Was it that what was making her shake? She was not sure. It all felt so surreal. 

 

The next time she grew brave enough to lift her hood, they were miles outside of the city walls, galloping towards the farm lands in the black of night. The air was still and clear. There were no screams or cries. Just owls hooting softly from the trees that they passed and the crickets chirping in the fields. She had made it. She had escaped her golden prison. _Im free._ It made her cry. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she lent into the monster that had saved her. 

 


End file.
